


Little Blue Socks

by WhiteFoxKitsune (ProwlingThunder)



Series: In The Black [27]
Category: Invasion America
Genre: Expectant Mothers, Friends/Enemies, Gen, standoff - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:19:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2425118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingThunder/pseuds/WhiteFoxKitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt!Fill.</p><p>Sonia runs into someone at the store she shouldn't have-- but if she doesn't think too hard, they should both be okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Blue Socks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RainbowGal](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=RainbowGal).



> Prompt: Sonia/Amy

They had met before, though only on opposite ends of telekinetic forces; never in a tame, controlled situation, never without their brothers trying to kill each other in the background. And she knew the dark-haired girl's name probably for the same reason the other knew hers.

But standing orders were still to catch the Carter siblings, though, so Sonia kept her gaze focused on the pair of blue socks held between her and the other, and deliberately did not think her name, just in case she had to report today. If the sister were here, the brother probably was, too. Sonia had ditched Simon at the inn so she could come get some food for the road, and there was no way she could take the both of them without bringing the supermarket down on their heads.

Which wasn't the definition of subtle at all.

And even if she did catch them, she'd have to make a report about why she was in the supermarket, and it was hard to lie about something like that. Also, the booties had her fingerprints on the packaging.

If her mother found out she knew about Iairos, she might flush the tube just to teach her a lesson. Sonia wasn't willing to let that happen.

She doesn't look up when the not-stranger finally speaks, the words edged with ten thousand questions Sonia can't even begin to answer. Her heart constricted into knots. “...nice booties. Think they'll fit?”

Sonia wasn't pregnant. Knew she didn't smell like a mother. Which probably confused the other teenager, but she wasn't going to tell her the truth. The other... kind of did smell like she might be, but Sonia knew her nose wasn't the best of her senses. And anyway she could hear the strongest question in there, laced with bewilderment and accusatory wonder.

You have a son?

“They might,” She admits at last, which is a condemning yes if there ever was one. But it unwound a little something, felt strangely liberating-- she's never spoken of him aloud before. Not even to Simon-- Simon didn't know. Couldn't know. He might let something slip to their mother, and then Iairos would be gone. “Too big, right now. Might be too pretty, too.”

Not yet. I don't know what I'm doing.

The not-stranger makes a thoughtful sound, and Sonia forces herself again to not look up. She lets go of the packaging instead. There wasn't room for them, this trip. And they might be forced to leave the motorcycles behind.

It's three o'clock. Simon'll be waking up from his nap in about thirty minutes. He'll be drowsy for another thirty. That's just enough time to get back and wash the scent off herself. He's been muttering things about this young woman, lately. And he's... odd enough he might not realize it's Sonia, if she's drizzled in this scent. Sometimes his brain is in a disconnect from his eyes. It's not like he can do anything to her-- he's all raw, unfocused power without her there to channel, but Sonia's no slouch either.

She doesn't want to tempt him though.

“Don't get caught.” She tells the other, turning away; the Carters, right or wrong, can't help her get Iairos out of there. Catching them means Gorden might show up with his trained puppy, the lieutenant hanging onto his coat-tails like the kids she sees at the Mall, sometimes.

“We wont be.” The not-stranger promises, her name tantalizingly, dangerously close to the surface.

Sonia stomps it down. She wont think about that. She's bordering dangerously close to traitorous already.

“Make sure you don't.”

The silence that stretched behind her reminded Sonia of the public execution she went to watch as a child. Simon had been fascinated, had asked to shove the bound and naked soldier into the Mangler pit. That was normal for Simon, she guessed; they'd been young. He hadn't grasped the concept.

After the man had slipped past the edge, Simon hadn't been fascinated no more. The slow-dawning, horrified awareness they had felt... had etched down to her bones. She thought, if she ever was led to that pit, she might be too terrified to scream.

Simon wouldn't get caught. He'd die first.

She didn't want to loose him, either. At the end of the day, he was still her brother, and she couldn't hide Iairos alone.


End file.
